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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23865391">I Will Not Kiss You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_noma/pseuds/its_noma'>its_noma</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shall We Date?: Obey Me!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, First Kiss, Gender-Neutral MC, Last Kiss, Last Minute Confessions, MC's last day in the Devildom, Not Beta Read, Other, Please if you see mistakes just. Look away</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:00:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23865391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_noma/pseuds/its_noma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>You press your freed hand to his chest. “I will not kiss you.”</p>
  <p>“What?”</p>
  <p>“I just…<i>can’t</i>,” you insist, shaking your head. “Not now.”</p>
  <p>“Why not? If not now then when? <i>Never</i>? You know how I feel! I know how <i>you</i> feel! Can’t you give us this?”</p>
</blockquote>Your last day in the Devildom. Mammon comes to your room to say goodbye for the last time.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>262</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Will Not Kiss You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by Twenty One Pilots' cover of MCR's "Cancer". I listened to this song on repeat while writing this. I was looking for songs to give me inspiration for something to write, and lo and behold, this song came around and inspired me to write something sad. :) Ahaahaaa,,I swear I like soft, fluffy shit too. I've been on an angst kick lately I guess haha.</p><p>Anyway! I hope whoever reads this enjoys it :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re leaving today.”</p><p> </p><p>You look up from where you’re finishing your report on your experience with the exchange program to see Mammon standing in the open doorway of your room. You’re surprised none of his brothers are standing with him, but they’d all come around individually to say their goodbyes earlier today. You suppose what’s most surprising is that he wasn’t the first one to do so.</p><p> </p><p>You set down your pen and turn in your chair to face him. “Excellent observation, Mammon.”</p><p> </p><p>You can already feel the thick tension between you two and try cracking a lighthearted joke to ease it. It doesn’t work. It’s the same as with the other brothers, sure, but there’s something extra in this tension. Something soggier, heavier in its viscosity in your chest. You elect to ignore it.</p><p> </p><p>Your smile doesn’t work to bring one to Mammon’s lips. He instead scowls at the sight.</p><p> </p><p>“How can you be so happy, huh?” he prods. “You’re leavin’ and never comin’ back, ya know!”</p><p> </p><p>He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed in agitation over his chest. You follow the movement, outlining the familiar rumples of his jacket sleeves, imprinting into your memory the contour of his hands tightly gripping his elbows. The familiarity in his most worn outfit bleeds warmth into your quickly pulsing heart.</p><p> </p><p>“Who says I’m happy?” you inquire.</p><p> </p><p>He scoffs. He pushes off the doorframe and steps further into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. You don’t move as he stalks closer.</p><p> </p><p>“That stupid grin on your human face,” he points out. “You’re happy to go home, aren'tcha?”</p><p> </p><p>Yes, that goes without question. You were brought down to the Devildom without your prior knowledge or consent, so being able to return home and see your family and friends is a much needed experience.</p><p> </p><p>But it’s a double-edged sword, because when are things like this ever supposed to be easy? You’ve developed your own found family down here in the House of Lamentation. All of the brothers are special to you, just like the people you love up in the human world. A part of you wants to stay here and live out the rest of your life with them, continuing where this year is leaving off. But you also want to go home. The duality that tugs at your heart is like euphoria and agony all at once.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” you answer. Your smile slips away at his responding glare. “This isn’t easy, Mammon.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> You’re </em> one to talk,” he snaps. “You come here, get in everyone’s business and stake your claim in <em> so </em>many people’s lives, then hop back up to the human world like nothin’ happened!”</p><p> </p><p>You push yourself out of your chair and close the distance between you two. While it <em> is </em> true you meddled and got involved with business that was none of your concern, you’re not leaving as though nothing happened. Like none of it mattered. It <em> all </em>matters, even the smallest, least significant moments. Maybe those are the moments you’ll miss the most; the ones that no one else cares about, the ones foggy in the others’ memories.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not like I want to ‘hop back up to the human world’ and abandon all the memories I made here,” you explain. “I <em> do </em>want to go home, but…”</p><p> </p><p>You don’t know how to put it into words without Mammon taking it the wrong way and getting angry. You don’t blame him for being upset over this ordeal; when Satan stopped by he had a hard time keeping his wrath in check, not towards you but the fact you’re leaving and never coming back. You can tell this is similar, but it feels a little more personal.</p><p> </p><p>“If I could go between realms easily like Lord Diavolo and Lucifer, I’d do it,” you tell him. “But life doesn’t always go your way, Mammon.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Mammon grumbles. Despite his guarded stance and frustrated words, when you bring a hand up and card it through his hair, he leans into your touch. His shoulders slump. “You’re talkin’ to the broke Avatar of Greed, remember?”</p><p> </p><p>His lips quirk up as he says it. It’s a weak attempt at a joke, but it doesn’t fail to make you laugh. Upon seeing your laughing face, Mammon smile widens into something more natural. It doesn’t look nearly as tense and forced as before.</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” you agree. “The irony never ceases to amaze me.”</p><p> </p><p>Mammon snorts. “Imagine livin’ it.”</p><p> </p><p>You laugh again. Your hand continues to card through his hair, your other coming up to join it to gently pat his head. His cheeks redden, subconsciously leaning into your touch before he remembers himself and pulls back. He turns and coughs into his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“So…” He shifts from foot to foot before glancing behind you. “Writing that report?”</p><p> </p><p>You nod. “It’s a pain with how many questions there are, but I’m almost done. If I don’t finish soon Lucifer will skin me, I’m sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Mammon shivers, probably imagining the process in his head. “Ugh.”</p><p> </p><p>You snicker. He follows as you turn and walk back to your desk, taking a seat and swinging back around to face your report. You cover the paper with your forearms when he leans over your shoulder to try and read it.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey! No peeking,” you insist. “This is for Lord Diavolo’s eyes only.”</p><p> </p><p>He rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on! What if you’re writing somethin’ bad about me, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d never,” you deny.</p><p> </p><p>A pause. The sincerity in your words is enough for Mammon to back off, sighing loudly as he shoves his hands in his pockets. You continue writing in silence, fully aware of Mammon’s presence as he idly walks around in the empty, open space of your room.</p><p> </p><p>You’ve already packed up the belongings you’ve accumulated while here, luckily only a single duffle bag’s worth of possessions. You’d thought you’d have taken to more over the course of a year, but then again, a lot of what you typically bought was either food or gifts for the brothers on their birthdays (or just for fun thinking they’d like the surprise). You don’t even want to count how many gifts you’ve bought for the man pacing around your room.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, with your wrist aching, you finish the report. Hopefully Lord Diavolo is pleased with what you have to say (and if he isn’t then oh well, what can he do once you’re gone?). You drop your pen down onto your desk and push away from it, stretching your arms up and forward, shoulders popping. You sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“You know…” You turn to face Mammon as he speaks, stopped in the center of your room and staring up at the ceiling. “I’ve been counting down the days before you go.”</p><p> </p><p>You hum. You’ve been doing the same for the past two weeks.</p><p> </p><p>He removes his hands from his pockets, shaking them out. It’s what he does when they’re sweaty or he’s just nervous and needs something to do with his hands. He fiddles with one of the rings on his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Shit, </em>this is really hard to say,” he suddenly curses.</p><p> </p><p>The tension in his gait as he comes closer gives you an inkling of what he’s trying to say. You two have been skating around it for the better half of this past year; your feelings for one another, that is. You’re not sure when you’d begun seeing him in a different light, but once you came to terms with it and realized that maybe, <em> just maybe, </em> he felt the same, it was like a heavy weight being lifted off your shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>But now it feels like that weight is back, because soon you’ll never see him again. And you never confessed, nor did he. At this point you don’t want to hear anything of the sort. It’ll only make leaving all the more painful.</p><p> </p><p>So when he turns your chair around and kneels down, you hold up a hand. He closes his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Please don’t say anything,” you say, voice soft. Barely above a whisper as you meet his eyes, confusion in his meeting your pleading ones.</p><p> </p><p>Mammon’s eyebrows furrow. “But I—”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Don’t </em>,” you beg. Your throat feels tight, clogged with unspoken words you both regret never saying and are thankful for never confessing. Saying goodbye would be too painful if you were more than what you are now: friends, and nothing more.</p><p> </p><p>He opens his mouth to protest but slowly closes it. He does this two more times before standing back up again, pacing around your room again, this time his steps wider and more irritated. You watch as you force back the tears threatening to cascade down your cheeks. You’ve done a good job not breaking down in front of the other brothers and don’t want to make Mammon the exception.</p><p> </p><p>(Even if he’s always been the exception for everything else. Just please, <em> not this </em>.)</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t expect me to just…leave this unsaid!” Mammon exclaims. He stops and turns towards you. “I know I’m an idiot for waiting this long—”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not an idiot,” you immediately reject, on complete instinct.</p><p> </p><p>Mammon stares at you with something dark and heavy swirling behind his eyes. You can’t bring yourself to meet them head-on, instead turning your gaze down to your fidgeting hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe out of the two of us,” he agrees, “because at least I’m not the one pretending we’re just friends!”</p><p> </p><p>“Since when?” you quip. Bile sits heavy in the back of your throat. “Just now?”</p><p> </p><p>He purses his lips. Then he runs his fingers through his hair, pulling on the strands before dropping his arms back down to his sides.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want you to leave without knowing,” he says. “I know it’s stupid to say it <em>now</em>! But it’s better than nothing, right?”</p><p> </p><p>You know he’s right, but your chest feels so tight you wonder if the slightest movement will cause it to rip open and spill its contents out onto the floor. You feel sweat gathering at the back of your neck but feel ice cold at the same time. Doesn’t this hurt him this much too?</p><p> </p><p>He comes closer, kneeling down before you once more. His hands come to rest on your thighs before taking your hands in his, and when he’s certain you won’t pull away from him he crowds into your field of vision. A weak little smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes spreads across his lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Right?” he repeats.</p><p> </p><p>Your next inhale is deep and stutters as you blow it out through your nose. The first tear finally trickles down your cheeks. Mammon’s smile fades.</p><p> </p><p>“The hardest part of this is leaving you,” you whisper, too afraid of your voice cracking if you spoke any louder.</p><p> </p><p>Mammon blinks in surprise, but then his face softens and his smile is back. This one is more genuine, if not shy, and you can’t help the onslaught of tears it brings even as your lips quirk back up in response. You already know you’re going to miss that smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Me?” he murmurs.</p><p> </p><p>Your laugh is wet and far too ugly. You nod; is that even a question? “Always you.”</p><p> </p><p>Mammon squeezes your hands, standing and leaning down. One of his hands dislodges from yours to cup your jaw.</p><p> </p><p>You press your freed hand to his chest. “I will not kiss you.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“I just…<em> can’t </em>,” you insist, shaking your head. “Not now.”</p><p> </p><p>You push your chair back to put some space between you two, hand slipping out of his. You stand up, gathering up your report and pen and walking resolutely to your bed to put them into your bag for when you leave.</p><p> </p><p>Mammon follows you. “Why not? If not now then when? <em> Never</em>? You know how I feel! I know how <em> you </em>feel! Can’t you give us this?”</p><p> </p><p>You shake your head again. No matter how many times you wipe your eyes, the tears won’t stop coming. And here you were trying to make sure Mammon wasn’t the exception; when has that <em> ever </em>worked?</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll hurt more,” you try to explain.</p><p> </p><p>A hand presses to the small of your back. You almost crumble right then and there but hold your ground, hands gripping the strap of your bag so hard your knuckles turn white.</p><p> </p><p>“I beg to differ,” he counters. “Maybe some closure would…help.”</p><p> </p><p>You laugh, bitter and contemptuous as you turn your head to look at him. “Oh, Avatar of Greed, I don’t need your avarice right now.”</p><p> </p><p>Mammon winces. You aren’t trying to be harsh, but you can’t help it. The hardest part of this is leaving everyone, yes, but especially Mammon. You almost wish you’d never picked up on his feelings and could go back home thinking it was always a one-sided crush. Maybe it’d make moving on less grievous.</p><p> </p><p>Three swift knocks resound on your door before it pushes open. Lucifer stands in the doorway.</p><p> </p><p>You furiously wipe at your eyes as his own land on you. “Are you finished with your report?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” you reply.</p><p> </p><p>He glances at Mammon. “Finished saying your goodbyes, Mammon?”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a pause. You refuse to look at either of them as you swing the strap of your bag over your shoulder, counting to ten with each inhale and counting to six on each exhale.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, “Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Lucifer nods. “Very well. The others are waiting in the foyer to bring you to Lord Diavolo’s castle so you may return home.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” you say. You stare at your newly made bed as you ask, “May I go to the bathroom before we go?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t see why not,” Lucifer replies. “Come on, Mammon. We’ll wait with the others.” He glances at you. “Take your time.”</p><p> </p><p>You nod as the two leave, Mammon far more reluctant, glancing back at you with each passing second. It’s only when the door shuts that you can finally relax.</p><p> </p><p>Not one to lie to Lucifer after so many lectures doing the opposite, you head to the bathroom to wash up and at least make it look like you <em> hadn’t </em>been crying. Asmodeus will notice either way, so you don’t see the point in doing so, but it’s more for yourself than anyone else.</p><p> </p><p>When you join the others in the foyer, a range of different emotions leaves the atmosphere heavy like a storm cloud.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, come <em> on</em>, guys,” you try to tease as you walk down the hallway towards them. “Can’t my last moments here be at least <em> somewhat </em>happy?”</p><p> </p><p>Satan rolls his eyes, only lessening his frown when Asmodeus elbows him in the side, exclaiming, “Of course, dear!”</p><p> </p><p>You smile as he steps forward and loops his arm through yours, pulling you towards the door that Lucifer opens for you. You’re thankful Asmodeus is here; without him and his natural bubbly personality, you’re sure the walk to the castle would be tense and uncomfortable. But the more he talks, the more the others join in, and soon it almost feels like any other day. Almost.</p><p> </p><p>The tension only returns once the castle comes into view and the inevitable is brought down to mere minutes. Less than an hour until you return home. You should be happy to go home; it’s what you wanted the first few months. So why are you feeling the exact opposite now?</p><p> </p><p>Mammon stays silent, bringing up the rear of the party with Lucifer in step beside him. You want to peel away from between Asmodeus and Beelzebub and walk with him but know better. Your heart squeezes when you make eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>Lord Diavolo is waiting outside with not only Barbatos but Solomon, Simeon and Luke. You go to them, murmuring quiet greetings and softly joking over finally being able to go home, though you can tell they’re all a little saddened by it too. Even Luke, so adamantly against spending time with demons, admits to everyone with red cheeks that it’s been fun. For once no one calls him “Fido” or tells him to “sit”.</p><p> </p><p>You hand your report to Barbatos as he makes his rounds to collect them from the four of you. He nods his head in thanks before Lord Diavolo leads you all further into the castle.</p><p> </p><p>Lord Diavolo’s voice is as loud and cheerful as always as he explains, “The process is as simple and easy as how it was bringing you all here!”</p><p> </p><p>“Thankfully,” Solomon leans over to murmur to you.</p><p> </p><p>You stifle a short laugh behind a cough into your elbow.</p><p> </p><p>“Once you all return to your respective realms, the exchange program will come to an end,” Lord Diavolo continues. “I hope you all enjoyed your time here! This has been a learning experience for us all, but a much needed one.”</p><p> </p><p>As he carries on his long, final speech, you sneak one final glance at Mammon. You find him already looking at you, arms folded protectively over his chest again. It almost looks as though he’s protecting his heart.</p><p> </p><p>Solomon subtly elbows you, drawing your attention back to the endings of Lord Diavolo’s speech. You give him a thankful smile that he merely rolls his eyes at.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, without further ado, I’ll send you four back to home!” Lord Diavolo booms.</p><p> </p><p>You close your eyes and inhale, ready for whatever sensation the transportation back to the human world brings, only to feel a hand wrap around your wrist. Some warm slips onto your ring finger.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait!” Your eyes snap open to see Mammon’s desperate look as he grips you tightly.</p><p> </p><p>You try to pull away from him. “Mammon—”</p><p> </p><p>You’re cut off by his lips crashing into yours. You hear a disgruntled noise to your right, most likely from Luke at the sudden display, but can’t bring yourself to care.</p><p> </p><p>Mammon’s lips are warm and soft, chapped against yours and—</p><p> </p><p>Faded.</p><p> </p><p>When you next open your eyes, you’re in the familiar walls of your room. Your <em> human world </em>room.</p><p> </p><p>You’re home.</p><p> </p><p>Bringing a hand up to your tingling lips, you can’t help the hiccuped sob that tears its way out of your throat. Your other hand wraps around where Mammon’s had lingered. You’re able to stay composed up until you notice the familiar silver ring around your finger—his favorite ever since you met him—and as your body suddenly convulses with the intensity of your wails, you sink to the floor. You hear footsteps hurriedly rushing up the stairs but can’t bring yourself to care.</p><p><br/>What part of <em> I will not kiss you </em> did Mammon not understand?</p>
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